


The Human Touch

by Lunasong365, sous_le_saule



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: I swear nobody will become entirely human and will slowly die, M/M, No Angst, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7689058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunasong365/pseuds/Lunasong365, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sous_le_saule/pseuds/sous_le_saule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale has fallen asleep for the first time in his life. What he discovers upon waking has him worried…</p>
<p>This fiction is the sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7012534/">“All We’ve Left Unsaid.”</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Expérience](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6257599) by [sous_le_saule](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sous_le_saule/pseuds/sous_le_saule). 



> Like a certain angel, Luna is "always so helpful with the translations". Once again, she did an amazing job! I'm so lucky she's kind enough to spend hours translating my fics! (And God knows what she had to do for this one!). Her comments are very instructive and she does more than translating: she manages to improve the text with her own touch while being very respectful of the story. This lovely title is hers, btw. Thank you so much, dear!
> 
> Translator's note: It is a pleasure to once again collaborate with sous-le-saule. Her fiction is so lovely; I truly enjoy being able to present it in "mostly" her own words to an English-reading audience. Yes, God knows what I had to do for this one (off to confession).

Aziraphale awoke with a start. He was momentarily seized with panic, unable to figure out what had happened. As the fog of slumber dissipated from his mind, he was finally able to form a coherent thought and realize that he had fallen asleep. He had no memory of having dozed off, but perhaps that was normal. It’s hard to know for sure when it’s the first time it has occurred.[1]

His second realization was that he _felt_ different. _Physically_ different. It took him only a brief moment to figure out why, and the oath he swore would not have seemed out of place coming from the mouth of a demon. Apparently, he had _made an effort_. If ‘making an effort’ is something one can do when fast asleep.

He was speechless for several minutes. He started noticing some other changes. His senses were not functioning in the same manner. Everything seemed less defined (the street sounds were not as clear, and the odors of the bookshop were intermingled instead of being distinctly identifiable) but, paradoxically, he felt almost overwhelmed by the sensations. The voices of the first morning passers-by, even though filtered through the front door into the back room, made his temples throb. The slightest contact of clothing against his skin made him jump. And, if that were not enough, he was starving.[2] If it were not absolutely impossible for an angel, he might have thought he was sick.

A terrible question formed in his mind. _Could this be a punishment from On High?_ Would they have waited four years, four years without any contact, to punish him for helping stop the Apocalypse? Moreover, it seemed a very strange and unusual punishment. Being recalled to Heaven for judgment seemed more probable. Being struck down on the spot was possible, if a bit hasty. But _this_?

If the phenomenon _was_ related to the averted Apocalypse, perhaps Crowley was also afflicted! Aziraphale rushed to the phone to find out.

After an endless number of rings, an irritated voice heavy with sleep answered:

“GgnnnmpfrrrWHAT?”

“It’s me.”

“It’s eight in the morning! What do you want?” The irritated tone softened just a little and his articulation was improving.[3]

“How do you feel?”

“Like someone who’s been awakened from a sound sleep to answer an idiotic ques… _oh_. Wait a minute.”

 

Hearing the uncertainty in Crowley’s voice, Aziraphale held his breath. The phone remained silent.

_Hey, wait a minute, indeed. Since when do I really_ need _to breathe?_

 

“Okay, this _is_ weird. And a bit creepy. Do you know what’s going on?” asked Crowley.

“Do you think they’ve finally decided to make us pay for…?”

“When Satan decides to punish you, believe me, it will be a bit more painful than this juvenile prank.”

The demon’s words caused Aziraphale to be struck by a sudden realization.

“For all the Saints! I think I’ve figured out why this is happening…”

“What do you mean, ‘you think?’”

 

Aziraphale didn’t immediately respond. After just a moment, Crowley added in a foreboding tone:

 “Oh… _fuck_. I’m coming over.”

* * *

 

 

[1] This is even more striking when one has existed for over 6000 years.

[2] Usually, Aziraphale just wanted to eat.  Don’t tell me you’ve never confused the two.

[3] Waking Crowley, especially before ten, indicated a willingness to live life dangerously. Even Aziraphale avoided this risk as much as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

“Explain this to me again, slowly. _What_ did you do?” Crowley exclaimed, halfway between anger and bewilderment.

“Yesterday, I went to visit Adam. I just wanted to see if he was okay.” Fixed by the demon’s angry glare, Aziraphale tried to justify his actions. “He looked a bit worried. I offered to help, and he ended up confiding in me. He didn’t know what to do about a girl and their relationship… and… er… the possibility of developing this relationship into something more… um…”

“Wait. You’re telling me he discussed sex with _you_? The kid must be desperate. In any other circumstance, this would be hilarious!”

“If it’s any consolation,” the angel clarified plaintively, “he said he’d rather wished it was you.”

“Oh, don’t try to flatter me. It so happens _one_ of us is smart enough to avoid a teenager who can simply delete our existence.”

Aziraphale glowered at him. Crowley ignored it. “Well, go on,” he coaxed. “What did you tell him?”

“That he was, of course, too young. That he had to be sure it was the right person. The one he wanted to go through life with. And that, frankly, it could wait a few more years.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“He’s only fifteen!”

“Precisely. I bet that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.”

Aziraphale grimaced. “Probably not.”

“So I’m guessing there’s a direct relationship between the fact that you told him to put a sock on it and what has happened to us?”

If the angel was shocked by the expression, he was too preoccupied to show it.

“He said I didn’t understand. That the words were easy for me to say because I could _choose_ not to feel the same things humans did, but he refused to live differently from them. And that abstinence, when we’re not even of a mind to be tempted was, in his words, ‘not playing with the big boys,’” Aziraphale concluded with an annoyed pout.

“He’s not entirely wrong.”  

“Oh, don’t you go there too!”

“And why shouldn’t I? Why should I now find myself in this shit when I could have given him my approval and some _good_ advice as well, eh? ”

“I don’t know!”

“Az, you never did know how to lie.”

The angel sighed resignedly and looked away.

“He knew… about us.”

“WHAT?” exclaimed the demon.

“I didn’t tell him!” Aziraphale said defensively. “You know how Adam is. He _knows_ things.”

“And…?”

“And… nothing!” stammered the angel.

Crowley glared at him until Aziraphale cracked.

“Well okay, _maybe,_ but only because he already knew! I _may_ have let it slip, at some point in the conversation, that _we_ had a fulfilling relationship without… well, you know… to demonstrate it was possible.”

“I’m going to kill you,” the demon announced coldly. Aziraphale tried to look contrite. “Give me one good reason _not_ to strangle you!”

“Er… because you love me?” the angel offered in a small voice.

“Dammit, Aziraphale!” exploded Crowley. “You really had to tell him about our sex life… no, wait, it’s worse… our _lack_ of sex life! It was a lousy comparison – we are NOT HUMAN! That is, at least not until today!”

“Please don’t overreact. I checked after I called, and I imagine you did too. I still have my wings and my powers.”

“Yeah, yeah. There _is_ a bit of a mess going on in town.”[1]

In response to Aziraphale’s half-questioning, half-disapproving look, the demon shrugged.

“What? I was _forced_ to check that I hadn’t lost my demonic powers. And _someone_ had to pay for the stinker migraine I got stuck with. And,” he added petulantly, “I’m cold.”

“Otherwise, er… no changes to report?”

“None that I know of, but I refuse to throw myself under a train to see if I’ve suddenly become mortal.” He looked suspiciously at the angel. “Why? Is there something you haven’t told me?”

Given his lack of previous success, Aziraphale prudently thought it was useless to be anything but direct.

“I should have known, given your nature, that there would be no difference. As for me… let’s just say the old saying ‘angels are sexless’ no longer applies.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow and stared at him, then burst out laughing.

“You… you must’ve… _really_ made him angry!” he articulated with difficulty. Bent over and laughing hysterically, it took a moment for Crowley to regain control. A bit offended, Aziraphale resignedly stood by.      

“It’s not _that_ funny. First, it’s uncomfortable. I don’t know how you can choose to endure this permanently.”

“Not everyone wears shapeless trousers, angel,” replied the demon, wiping his eyes. “It’s like you said; a matter of habit. You’ll get used to it.”

“But I don’t _want_ to get used to it! Adam can’t force me to stay like this! It’s… it’s humiliating!”

“No. What’s humiliating is that kid was able to do in a snap what I’ve been waiting four years for,” Crowley muttered in a suddenly bitter tone.

A hurt expression crossed the angel’s face. “That’s a low blow.”[2]

They stared at each other for a long moment. The demon finally took two steps toward Aziraphale and said softly, putting a hand on his forearm:

“You’re right. You know what I think? We’ve already had this conversation. The subject is closed.”

 

 ~*~*@*~*~

 

In fact, they had very thoroughly discussed this subject when their relationship had last changed.[3] Anthropomorphically-minded humans tend to think supernatural beings have sexual needs. Of course, this isn’t true. But technically, demons don’t _need_ to sleep any more than angels _need_ to eat. The problem occurs once one has tried something and enjoyed it. And although Aziraphale had never tried carnal pleasure, this wasn’t true for Crowley.

It was, after all, one of the methods he had at his disposal to corrupt human souls. Not that he used it frequently. First, because it individually took so long, he’d found more effective ways to damn humans on a mass scale. Next, sex for demons is way overrated. Sleeping with a human being is certainly pleasant enough[4], but it’s difficult to fully enjoy if one is always holding back their true nature.[5] And sex between demons? Get serious. Demons don’t turn their backs on one another.

But making love to an angel, _his_ angel… how could Crowley _not_ be tempted? Aziraphale occasionally seemed interested, but just as quickly denied it. The angel shared his curiosity on a strictly intellectual level, of course. But he feared the consequences of such an act. Oh sure, they’d discussed the difference between ‘lust’ and the pure expression of ‘love.’ But still they doubted that Heaven would overlook an angel _physically expressing love_ for a demon. And though Adam had assured them they were off the hook for helping to prevent the Apocalypse, there was no guarantee that certain representatives of the celestial hierarchy would not jump at a chance to punish Aziraphale for reasons that were not directly related to that embarrassing episode.

Naturally, Crowley was paranoid of his own superiors. And he was well-positioned to know that tolerance of fallen angels was not one of the virtues advocated in Paradise. So he perfectly understood the fears of his companion, even if at times they were a bit exasperating. It was inconceivable to either of them that the angel should fall. Imagining Aziraphale in Hell was like picturing the Queen of England as the lead dancer in a strip club.[6] He was not cut out to endure it; not even for a moment. Not to mention he’d probably be the worst demon ever. Aziraphale, who virtually breathed innocence, who only saw the good in everyone, could only be an angel. Crowley would probably rather be tortured than admit it, but this was precisely why he loved him. Thus, he accommodated the situation, whether he liked it or not. Although he may have made an occasional hint, especially on nights when they’d both been heavily drinking.

 

~*~*@*~*~

 

“Well, I suppose we should go find Adam and ask him to return us to how we were before,” suggested Crowley. “Maybe you should apologize?”

“That would only prove him right!” retorted Aziraphale, who could be particularly curt when stressed.

“He _was_ right.”

“No he’s not! This is the perfect opportunity to show him that, in the same situation, _we_ are able to control our impulses.”

“Oh, _great!_ ” exclaimed the demon. “I already wasn’t getting any, and now you’re going to force me to spend eternity without kissing you or even touching you!”

“Don’t be so presumptuous. I am an angel, after all. You already know that I’m perfectly able to resist that kind of temptation. You may kiss me only as long as it doesn’t go any further.”

Crowley threw him an incredulous look. “Do you realize that you’ve just issued me a challenge? You do know to whom you’re talking?”

“Someone who’s obviously a bit too full of himself,” replied Aziraphale, who refused not to have the last word. 

In a flash, the demon had swept him into his arms. Aziraphale briefly thought he might have to take back his words as Crowley whispered in his ear.

“Fear not, angel, I won’t let you go too far.”

He would have protested, but the demon’s lips were already on his. His resolve to not kiss back was instantly dissolved by the myriad new sensations aroused in him. Kissing had always been very nice, but now… He involuntarily parted his lips, and if he’d still had the ability to form a coherent thought he might have blamed himself. But thought was swept away as Crowley’s tongue began to tickle him, enticing him, before smoothly sliding inside to expertly dance with his, leading him... He rediscovered with increasing intensity the indescribable flavor of the demon, smoky and subtly spicy and oh… he really couldn’t think of the right words now as his belly was seared by a flash of unknown heat. He felt Crowley’s hands, which up to that point had been tangled in his hair, slide down his back, triggering shivers down his spine, and landing at his hips. The demon drew himself closely against him. Aziraphale was confused by the reaction the contact aroused in him. How could he have lost control of his own body? Their embrace left no question as to his physical reaction, and elated, Crowley growled appreciatively. It was almost impossible for the angel to ignore that the demon was in the same state as he.

 

Aziraphale abruptly broke away, grabbed his overcoat, and fled toward the door.

“I’ll be waiting for you in the car. We can be in Tadfield within the hour.”

* * *

 

 

[1] Which, upon reflection, explained why they’d been hearing police and ambulance sirens non-stop for the last fifteen minutes.

[2] Crowley would have used the phrase ‘blow below the belt,’ but this was certainly not the moment to test the limits of angelic humor.

[3] Especially by Crowley, if by ‘thoroughly discuss’ one means ‘to abruptly turn a chaste kiss into a French one and then attempt to start undressing one’s partner.’ _That_ particular discussion wasn’t as thorough as he’d hoped for.

[4] Of course, it depends which human. Demons are in the same boat as humans on this point.

[5] So one doesn’t kill their sex partner. That’s better left to the incubus or succubus.

[6] And again, without question, she’d probably cope better than the angel would.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Although the Bentley was certainly not obeying the speed limit, the ride seemed to last an eternity. Trying to distract himself by driving, Crowley thought maybe he _had_ been a bit too presumptuous. But not in the same way Aziraphale had meant[1].The demon had underestimated the impact the changes had personally made on him. He’d thought he could retain self-control, but he was now unsure he could keep the promise he had whispered to the angel prior to Aziraphale hurriedly breaking contact. Crowley had made the mistake of daydreaming what _could_ have happened if events had unfolded otherwise, and found he was getting a bit _hot_. _Talk about irony for a demon._ He snuck a quick peek at Aziraphale, who was not fast enough to hide his flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, or the fact he’d been staring at Crowley. Crowley had to resist a sudden urge to stop the car and jump on the angel to make love to him right then and there.

To hide his embarrassment, Aziraphale choked out, “We’re almost there. Adam’s house is right at the edge of the village.”

 

~*~*@*~*~

 

They didn’t need to ring the doorbell. Adam was outside playing with Dog. Lanky, wearing faded jeans and a grey Greenpeace hooded sweatshirt, he greeted them with a nod and a smile.

“Hi, guys. I was expecting you to come by.”

“No kidding,” croaked the demon, angry enough to momentarily forget the fear he’d always felt in the presence of his boss’s son.

With a wave, the teenager invited them to sit at the patio table.

“It’s good to see you, Crowley. It’s been a long time.”

“You could have invited me o…”

He was cut short by an elbow in the arm from Aziraphale, who courteously and respectfully interjected[2], “Hello, Adam. Excuse me for being a bit forthright, but I’ll get straight to the point. I’m sure you know why we’re here.”

“Well, if I had to guess: you’re feeling a bit weird since this morning and you want me to fix things.”

“That’s exactly it! Now I know you want to do the right thing and… “

“The answer is no.”

“Adam, be reasonable!” began Aziraphale in a prim tone before simultaneously receiving both a kick under the table and a furious glare from Crowley.

He continued, while rubbing his shin and trying not to seem too reluctant, “I see. I acknowledge that I did not understand the exact nature of the situation you are in, and the advice I gave you may not be as easy to follow as I’d thought.”

Adam crossed his arms and sarcastically replied, “Oh, really? I thought it might take you a bit longer to figure that out.” Aziraphale almost choked but tried to maintain his dignified expression. “Sorry, but the answer is still ‘no.’”

He then regarded the pair with sincerity and raised his hands in appeasement.

“Don’t look at me like that, guys. It’s true I was a bit annoyed by your patronizing advice, Zira, and I thought I’d teach you a lesson.[3] This morning I had second thoughts and I almost didn’t do it.” At this, the angel and demon looked up hopefully. “I finally decided to go ahead, though, and it’s a good thing I did.”

Two ‘I don’t understands’ rang out coupled with loud groans. The teen continued:

“It was nice to have you at my side four years ago. You are the only angel and demon who want anything to do with this planet and its inhabitants. But you don’t _really_ understand humans. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to help you _really_ understand how they feel.”

“You can’t do this!” protested Crowley.

The boy raised an eyebrow.

“Of course I can.” The demon slunk down in his seat. Adam continued with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “You know what mothers always say, ‘You can’t say you don’t like it if you haven’t tried it.’”

His interlocutors exchanged a look of despair. Adam smiled sympathetically at them and said, “Come on, let’s make a deal. Try it for a year. If you still want to change back, return to me then.”

They dismally echoed, “A _year_?”

“One year. That will give you the chance to fully experience each season. It’ll be great!”

Crowley shivered at the thought of the London winter. Aziraphale squirmed in his chair.

“But Adam, what if this… experience, uh… leads us to… do things that…”

Adam’s cell phone rang.

“Oh, this is Pepper.” He picked up the phone. “Hi!... yeah… I’ll be right there.” He hung up. “Sorry, gotta go!”

He stood up and whistled for Dog, who came running.

“But,” tried the angel while the boy started to walk away, “how can I risk…”

“Everything is a risk, Zira; that’s the way life is! You have to make choices!” With that, Adam cheerfully exited the yard.

He turned around one last time and gave them a vague salute before running off.

 

~*~*@*~*~

 

“Look on the bright side. This is only temporary,” attempted Aziraphale on their way back.

He received a grunt in response.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Aziraphale went on. “I really had no idea he would do this.”

“It’s alright; it’s OK! No need for _you_ to be sorry. That little prick[4] is abusing his position and we’ll just have to deal with it.”

“If you could somehow avoid hitting a pedestrian while you’re dealing with your nerves, I’d appreciate it,” squeaked the angel, who was barely clinging to his seat while the Bentley careened through the streets of London.

The vehicle jerked to a stop in front of the bookshop. An awkward silence ensued before Aziraphale broke it. “Perhaps… it might be more prudent for you to go home?”

Crowley’s expression was unreadable. “Probably.”

“Fine. I’ll call you tomorrow.” The angel hesitated, then pressed a chaste kiss on the lips of his companion. He murmured, “I love you.”

He got out of the car and disappeared into the shop.

 

~*~*@*~*~

 

That night, Crowley was unable to close his eyes, and this was one time he really wanted to. In recent years, he’d been sleeping more and more often on the couch in his flat or in the bookshop with the angel at his side[5]: one hand holding a book, the other tenderly resting on him. His bed seemed cold and lonely without his companion.

As for Aziraphale, he brooded in the dark over his fears and regrets until at last, sleep won out (about 6000 years too late).  

* * *

 

[1] The latter, by the way, was no longer being a big pain in the ass.

[2] His tone clearly sounded forced to the ear of anyone who knew him well.

[3] Crowley almost chuckled. But he wasn’t really in the mood.

[4] And that wasn’t even the word Crowley _really_ wanted to use.

[5] Yes, on the couch. It was supposedly more appropriate than the bed. Aziraphale and his principles…

 


	4. Chapter 4

Aziraphale kept himself especially busy for the next week: shop inventory[1], bibliophilic conventions, tax returns[2]... he was only able to free up minimal time to have lunch with Crowley. During this meeting, they behaved as they normally would, and had much the same conversations as they’d had before Adam’s changes. But it was impossible not to note that they were meeting in a public place and a certain topic of discussion was being carefully avoided.

Crowley was enraged, but refused to let it show. This was ridiculous. What was Aziraphale thinking? That the demon was unable to control himself, much like some stupid fifteen-year old human? Crowley would not admit it, but he was hurt by the angel’s lack of trust in him. On the other hand, the demon was not totally sure he’d be able to prove otherwise.

 

~*~*@*~*~

 

Once again alone for the evening, he was brooding while watching a movie with the sound cut, a glass of Primitivo in his hand and three already empty bottles lined up at the base of the couch. A sudden rap on the door interrupted his sulk, but he made no effort to get up to answer it. After a few minutes, a key rattled in the lock. Aziraphale entered, a bit surprised by the darkness of the room lit only by the TV screen.

“Ah. You _are_ home.”

Crowley continued to stare at the TV. “As you can ssee.”

“I was getting worried. You haven’t answered your phone for three days.”

“I wouldn’t want to dissstract you from your busy schedule.”

“You drink too much.”

It wasn’t a question or an admonition, but a simple observation.

“Of coursse I drink too much! How else should I sspend my dayss? I’ve been unemployed for four yearsss, I’m bored to death, and now _you’re_ avoiding me like the plague!”

“Do you want to sober up and talk about it?”

“Ha! I don’t think I want to ssober up! No doubt that brat also wantss us to fully experience hangoversss! Here’ss to you, Adam!” Crowley raised his glass and tossed it back in one swallow.

Aziraphale sighed, took off his coat, and sat down on the couch. He put his hand on the demon’s cheek and turned Crowley’s face toward his. “I’m sorry.”

There was so much love and compassion in his eyes that it made Crowley’s stomach cramp.

Suddenly, his demonic instincts took over. He paused, attempting to quell the impulse, but it was impossible to ignore. It was going to be so easy it was almost laughable. All he had to say was:

“I love you.”

Three little words. There was no need to say more. He’d said them so rarely. He’d always thought it wasn’t necessary[3]. After all, they knew what they felt for each other, and their auras allowed them to express feelings beyond words. But Aziraphale could not help but feel his heart melt when he heard them.

“I love you too,” responded the latter, with all the sincerity in the world.

The demon leaned over to kiss him. Slowly, chastely at first, as not to frighten him. Carefully, he placed a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, caressed his neck and drew him nearer to deepen the kiss. He inwardly cursed the intoxication that was hampering his technique, but the enthusiastic response he was receiving demonstrated his passionate message was getting through. With measured slowness, he gently pulled the angel close against his torso. His target sank down into the couch without resistance. Crowley didn’t want to give him a chance to reconsider. He teased his extremely nimble tongue into the angel’s ear, waited for the inevitable desirous sigh, then moved down his neck with a seductive combination of kissing, biting and sucking. Almost imperceptibly, his fingers began to tug his victim’s shirt from his trousers, freeing delectable inches of exposed skin which he slyly stroked before slipping his hands under the fabric to possess the belly and hips which now called to him with irresistible movement. Through the trousers, he pressed his palm against Aziraphale’s erection and savored the unrestrained groan he received in response, but winced when he detected a discordant note which ended in an almost inaudible plea:

“I… I can’t do this.”

The protest was so feeble that Crowley knew he could sweep it away with only minimal effort. But he was forced against his will to recognize that another intense emotion was intermingled with Aziraphale’s arousal.

_He is scared to death._

One part of him urged him to continue. But another, the one he’d finally exposed four years ago, won out. Crowley didn’t want it to happen this way. And he didn’t want to risk the innocence of his angel. That thought was sobering.

He halted everything and sat up.

“Get away from me.”

Aziraphale took a few seconds to understand. He sat up also, a little out of breath.

“I should not have… “

“You should not have come here. Get out. _Now_.”

“I don’t want to… “

_Dammit, Aziraphale, please don’t stay! Get out of here before I change my mind!_

Crowley glared at him and said coldly:

“You don’t want to take this risk, I know. But when it comes to trying to persuade me to _your_ side, it’s not a problem. Do you think I risked nothing four years ago when I told you how I feel about you? Do you really think a demon is allowed to show that kind of weakness? For an _angel_ , no less! Do you think I don’t fear every day that they’re going to end up making me pay for this in Hell? Not to mention that it’s so against nature for a demon to feel this way, sometimes I wonder what I’ve become.”

He finally exploded.

“You just don’t care, Aziraphale! It’s out of the question that you’d make a move toward me! All that matters is that you keep your precious ass as far away from me as possible! You know what I think? In spite of all your fine words, you’re fucking selfish!”

The two beings glared at each other.

Silently livid, the angel stood up and straightened his clothes. Mechanically, he grabbed his coat and left the apartment without looking back. The door slammed.

Crowley released a sigh of mingled relief and regret.

_Congratulations, you haven’t lost your touch. You always find the right words._

But he could not ignore that, since they’d come so easily, they’d probably already been formulated in a corner of his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

[1] He’d gotten a new book.

[2] Since they weren’t due for four months, this really was a pathetic excuse.

[3] And it would have made him sound appallingly sentimental.

 


	5. Chapter 5

After a night spent fuming, Aziraphale was still furious the next morning. Looking back, he clearly understood how he’d nearly been fooled by his naïveté. He certainly had no lack of knowledge of how Crowley worked. But Aziraphale had never imagined that Crowley would stoop so low as to use the angel’s feelings against him.  

And the things Crowley had said to him, once the angel had regained enough lucidity to protest! They were totally uncalled for! _Aziraphale, selfish?_ And this coming from someone who put his baser instincts before anything else!

Aziraphale huffed and sighed. _Anger is a sin_ , he kept repeating to himself. His accounts! That’s what he could be doing![1] There is nothing more satisfying and distracting than adding a long column of numbers that always come out exactly right. He turned on his computer and discovered he’d gotten an email from Crowley. He opened it with a bit of reluctance.

_Sorry. I screwed up. It seems you were right not to trust me. I don’t want you to have to keep avoiding me for the next eleven months, so I’m taking a little trip. When I come back, we’ll go see Adam and hope that I have not ruined our relationship so much that we can’t get back to the way we were._

_Take care._

For a brief moment the angel was relieved Crowley had left, but then he was remorseful. He’d always been able to see the spark of goodness in Crowley[2]. Damn it, why couldn’t he see it now? What was making it so difficult?

_Because my own shortcomings keep getting in the way._

Aziraphale would have preferred to ignore this thought, but now that it was imposed, he was obliged to consider the facts. If he could still be proud of his angelic virtue this morning, it was less due to his pathetic attempt at resistance and more because Crowley had refused to further take advantage. It was only because Aziraphale had feared his own weakness that he’d kept the demon at bay. _Oh._ But… _‘you were right not to trust me.’_ Crowley and his damned paranoia! Not to mention his damned habit of jumping on a plane every time he wanted to avoid explanations!

It was exactly the same thing that had happened twenty-six years ago. And now, with everything he was holding in his heart, would he still be able to wait patiently for the demon to again set foot in London?

_Not this time, my dear._

He tried in vain to call Crowley. And twenty minutes later, when a taxi dropped him off at the apartment, it was empty.

 

~*~*@*~*~

 

Aziraphale sat on Crowley’s overpriced couch and held his head in his hands. He did not know when Crowley had left, but several hours had passed between when the email was sent and when he had opened it, so he would have little chance of catching him at the airport. That is, if the demon had chosen that means of transport.

If only he knew where Crowley had gone! The angel raised his eyes. The computer. Knowing the demon, he surely had not bought a ticket in advance but had gone directly to his point of departure and then had conveniently made sure that a seat was available. Perhaps he’d been looking at websites to choose a destination! It was worth a try.      

Aziraphale was far from mastering the inticracies of the Internet, but Crowley had taught him the basics[3], and reading a browser history is not rocket science. _Damn. Need a password._ He tried thirty or so that popped into his head without success. He sighed discouragedly. _Wait._ _Perhaps a miracle can crack this password. Ah. Yes, it could_. It appeared, letter by letter, until the angel could finally read the word Crowley had chosen[4]. He could not help but smile.

The history was erased, but a second small miracle solved that problem. _You’ve underestimated me, my friend._ The previous days listed a multitude of bizarre websites[5] that Aziraphale ignored, but the last few hours indicated only three: Tokyo, Miami, and Costa Rica. He tapped his fingers on the desk, thinking. His eyes settled on the plants that transformed the flat into a lush garden. Crowley had hated it when the angel had referred to his horticultural interests as evidence that he was nostalgic about the garden paradise of Eden. “Quit the two-bit psychoanalysis,” Crowley had growled, sprawled out on the couch as Aziraphale had nattered about his theory.

But if that _is_ how he feels…

Costa Rica. It was only a hunch, but if an angel can’t trust his intuition, who can?

But _he_ had to be certain this was what he wanted to do.

 

~*~*@*~*~

 

To go find Crowley was the clear choice. To leave the familiar and reassuring realm of love to explore the related but unknown and somewhat frightening, but alluring, realm of desire was inseparably connected.

He was suddenly fully aware of the dilemma the demon had faced four years earlier. Of course, Aziraphale had known that Crowley had needed – and still needed – courage to accept this feeling that theoretically was inconceivable for him. For the angel, love flowed naturally. It was impossible for Aziraphale to measure exactly how difficult it must have been. Especially since Crowley had never revealed his doubts and fears – until the previous day.

_Or was it me who’d refused to see?_

To just stay put, immobilized by inertia, was tempting. But Crowley was right. Up to this point, it had been _he_ who’d made the compromises and taken all the risks. For millennia, their relationship had been based on balance. _You wile, I thwart. I do miracles, you tempt._ Why wouldn’t this essential principle still be valid, even if the nature of their relationship had changed?

 _Okay, so I_ was _selfish. And frankly, there_ _are_ _a lot of_ _sins_ _worse than having sex with someone you love._

At that realization, paradoxically he felt as if a great burden had been lifted off his heart.

Yes, but… that’s not to say that Heaven shared this viewpoint. Although Aziraphale was reluctant to admit it, sometimes They were a little obtuse and backwards. He _might_ still Fall. The mere prospect of spending eternity torturing souls made him sick.

For two days he pondered these considerations, debating one side against the other, unable to come to a conclusion. Since when had it been so difficult for him to distinguish good from evil? All his time on Earth had served to make the boundaries less distinct. And being immersed in some very human emotions, feelings, and conflicting desires didn’t make it any easier!

Finally, he forced himself to sleep, because deciding anything this important with his current state of nerves would be a grave mistake. If he’d been hoping for a divine sign in his dreams, he was out of luck. But the slumber made him realize the interminable dithering he’d been doing was not going to solve anything. The answer wasn’t in his brain. It was in his heart, which held two indisputable certainties:

  1. He wanted to be with Crowley. And it was time for Crowley to stop believing that Aziraphale did not love him enough to take this first step. _I hope that traveling nearly 9000 km will be a big enough step…_  


  1. Trying to figure the mind of God is the greatest of conceit. Aziraphale was now convinced that what he wanted to do was not wrong, but if it _was_ wrong, he would accept the punishment. He had faith in God and was placing this matter in His hands. And if the archangels wanted to complain about it, they could fuck off.



He tried to purchase a ticket to Costa Rica, but all the flights were full until the following week. He decided Crowley’s method of booking would serve him very well and packed his bag for the airport. As extra insurance he was maintaining balance, he gave his ticket money away to a beggar at the tube station. 

* * *

 

 

[1] By the way, a bookshop that does not sell a single book, but has developed a highly complicated accounts method, is a small miracle in itself.

[2] In all fairness, he’d gotten four years of self-control and an apology (no, apologies!) to boot. For a demon, that was far and beyond a ‘spark’ of goodness.

[3] Without thinking for a minute that it might be used against him. It amused Crowley to see his angel alternately puzzled, outraged, or incredulous when surfing the Internet.

[4] This is left up to your imagination.

[5] See previous note.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Once in San José, Aziraphale was uncertain where to start his search. Costa Rica is not huge, but it’s also not exactly a postage stamp. Fortunately, two elements were in his favor. 1. Crowley had not passed through unnoticed and people had remembered seeing him. 2. Angels are good at the art of eliciting sympathy[1], so collecting evidence was relatively easy.

Within hours, he’d managed to find out where the demon had gone. Apparently, he was holed up in a ‘borrowed’ bungalow[2] in a small private reserve near the Tenorio Volcano. It was pretty far away, but a young woman who was headed toward Upala agreed to let him off at the entrance to the reserve. According to his map, there were no roads, and thus several hours of walking would be required to reach his target. Aziraphale sighed. Crowley had certainly chosen an inconvenient time to shake his urban tendencies. 

  

~*~*@*~*~

 

Although it was somewhat exhausting, the hike was a delight. An infinite number of birds flitted and sang in the rain forest canopy, through which sunlight filtered to highlight the rich nuances of orchids and hibiscus flowers accenting the abundant emerald foliage. Fig blossoms emanated a heady perfume. At every step, the angel heard the furtive rustling of some creature fleeing his unusual presence. 

There was not a soul in sight. The reserve was not open to tourists. The map he’d obtained was too sketchy and the benchmarks too imprecisely marked for him to easily find the bungalow, but Aziraphale hoped he’d get close enough to be able to sense the demon’s aura.

By remaining alert, he eventually sensed an elusive but familiar feeling, and headed toward its source.

He emerged at the edge of a small pool, turquoise blue in color, nestled in lush greenery. A modest cascade tumbled from a rock overhang. Under the waterfall, a naked demon stood mid-thigh in the water, his back toward Aziraphale. The tableau was the most beautiful sight he’d seen on Earth. He quietly took a moment to observe.

[](http://i.imgur.com/5fsuVDE.jpg)

 

Eventually, Crowley must have perceived his presence, because he turned about, his eyes wide in surprise. He stood for a moment in disbelief. Then he hurridly waded across the pool to where Aziraphale, his bag carelessly tossed on the shore, was now standing ankle-deep in the water. The angel greeted him with a coy smile.

“I just happened to be passing by… “

The demon was at a loss for words. He just stared at Aziraphale for what seemed minutes. Then, suddenly aware of his nudity, he cleared his throat and headed toward the rocks where he’d laid out his clothes.

“I should… “

“Certainly not,” Aziraphale calmly asserted.

And to make sure he didn’t, he wrapped the demon in his arms and kissed him. Crowley’s skin was clean and slick with water, and the angel’s hands had a lot of catching up to do.

Crowley sighed, “Aziraphale… “

Then in a strangled tone bordering on panic:

“Aziraphale!”

He clasped the wrists of his companion and pulled his hands away. “Stop!”

He seemed almost surprised by the words coming from his mouth, but continued. “It’s too risky. It’s not worth the price you might pay. I wasn’t thinking when I said those things the other night. Or if I was, I was wrong. You _must_ remain an angel. Please. I _need_ you to remain an angel.”

Aziraphale gently freed his wrists to hold Crowley’s hands.

“It’s not going to happen.”

“You can’t be certain.”

“I _am_ certain, for the same reason we didn’t get punished after the failed Apocalypse. I have confidence in Him.”

“Did Adam say…“ Crowley started hesitantly.

“Mmmhmmh,” agreed the angel, his mouth firmly planted against the demon’s.

Aziraphale sensed his brief hesitation, but Crowley relaxed under his continued caresses. There was so much new territory for Aziraphale’s fingers to explore and memorize: delicate collarbones, flexible back, narrow hips, firm and eager cock. His hand grasped it gently and Crowley tensed and cursed, bucking his hips forward, involuntarily begging. Emboldened, Aziraphale found a rhythm syncopated by the demon’s gasps. Crowley was trembling, eyes closed, surrendered. The trust he had placed in the angel was both humbling and exhilarating.

“Ahh… wait… you’ll…”

“That is my intention.”

This exciting new boldness silenced the demon. A moment later he let out a long groan and shudder, and buried his face in the neck of his lover. 

When he finally recovered, he looked at Aziraphale, still fully dressed except for his bare feet. Crowley feigned an indignant pout.

“That’s hardly fair.”

“Then restore the balance,” was the placid response.

He did not need to be told twice.

Barely suppressing his excitement, he slowly began to undress his angel, tasting each morsel of skin as he unveiled it. Walking through the forest had created a fine film of sweat. Beneath the slightly salty flavor, only a creature as subtly discerning as a serpent could detect a delicate scent of incense and orange blossom.

Crowley knew a thousand ways to use his lips and tongue. For the first time, each one meant _I love you_ , gently planted on the body of his partner. Temples, throat, shoulders. Patiently mapping his way lower and lower, kneeling to kiss the soft belly, inner thighs. When he raised his glowing eyes and looked deeply into Aziraphale’s, the angel felt a shiver of anticipation that soon gave way to a much more transcendent pleasure than anything he could have imagined as Crowley took his cock into his mouth inch by deliberate inch, flicking his agile tongue around the shaft and head. Aziraphale slumped, knees bent, overwhelmed.

 

When he regained his feet, he slid down the rock against which he’d had no recollection of sagging. He hardly felt the scratches down his back. Crowley settled beside him on the mossy bank edging the shore.

They gazed into each others’ eyes, self-consciously smiling like two idiots, unsure of what move to make next. With unprecedented timidity, the demon proposed, “We can stop now, if you’re not ready… that is… if you feel you don’t want… “

“I want to. And I’m ready,” calmly responded Aziraphale, trying not to blush. “Only… will you show me what to do?”

Crowley nodded reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” murmured Aziraphale, his eyes confidently locked with Crowley’s as he was tenderly laid on the welcoming bed of moss. “And you?” he added mischievously, perceiving a bit of anxiety beneath the demon’s façade of confidence.

The latter hesitated before admitting, “Aziraphale, it’s your first time! Of course I’m nervous! I want it to be… “

The angel smiled tenderly.

“Don’t be silly. It’s _our_ first time. It can’t be anything _but_ wonderful.”

 

And it was. Imperfect and somewhat awkward, and completely, unbelievably, _wonderful_. Like any first time, provided it takes place with the being one loves most in the world.

 

~*~*@*~*~

 

At dusk, they retreated to the bungalow, just minutes away. They realized they were hungry and ate a light supper, then enjoyed the view leaning over the terrace railing. The evening sky was nothing like London’s, and they admired it in silence for a few minutes. The demon could not help casting a worried look at his companion.

“Aziraphale?”

“Mmh?”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You seem a little… I don’t know… preoccupied? Tense? Like you’re keeping an eye out for something.”

The angel suddenly seemed aware of what he’d been doing.

“It’s nothing.”

“Angel.”

The tone was one of mild reproach.

“It’s nothing, really, I assure you. A moment of weakness. It’s over.”

Crowley studied him. Suddenly, his eyes flashed with realization and he frowned.

“You’re not certain, is that it? You’re not sure that nothing will happen to you!”

“I am _confident_ that nothing will happen to me. I told you, it was just… a brief, ridiculous moment of doubt.”

“It’s been four years since we escaped what we thought would be an inevitable punishment. Apparently, Adam _can_ impose his will on both camps. If he promised you…”

Aziraphale hesitated, then realized that condemning pause now forced him to tell the truth.

“Adam didn’t promise me anything. I haven’t spoken to him.”

“Have you _lost your mind_? How do you know that…“

“Please don’t panic. I have faith in His judgment on this matter.”

This time, the capital letter was clearly audible.

Crowley wanted to argue that, in his experience, His judgment was sometimes questionable, but this was not really the time to start a blasphemous argument. And the angel was once again serene. It was better to say nothing. What’s done is done and can’t be unrung.

He was still stunned.

“I can’t believe you lied to me.”

“ _You_ were the one who thought I talked to Adam. I merely didn’t contradict you, that’s all.”

The demon spluttered, “I am a _very_ bad influence on you. Why’d you do it?”

“I knew that an argument of faith would not convince you. You wouldn’t have let me take the risk.”

“I don’t know. I hope not.”

“I trust you.”

Crowley gratefully placed his hand on top of the angel’s and murmured, almost to himself, “Aziraphale, I love you so much.”

Seeing that the angel was wearing his _you’re-making-a-wonderfully-romantic-and-potentially-incriminating-statement_ face, the demon hastily added, “Let’s stop searching the sky for a sign of divine retribution. Anyway, you can’t do anything worse than you’ve already done… “

“Is that so?” Aziraphale asked playfully as he allowed himself to be pulled inside the bungalow.

Crowley chuckled. “No. You’re not the only liar here. You can do a _lot_ worse than that.”

They spent much of the night proving it.

 

And nothing happened. No lightning split the sky, no archangel appeared in holy vengeance, no thundering voice reprimanded Aziraphale. Not that night, nor the next morning, when dawn found them sleeping spooned against each other.

Nor any of the following days.

 

~*~*@*~*~

 

They remained for two months, admiring every detail of Creation, marveling at the flora and fauna. But mostly enjoying the beautiful, imperfect human bodies in which they lived, fragile and needy, but able to experience an infinite variety of sensations.

Perhaps they could have stayed in this Eden forever, but did it really matter where they were, as long as they were together? Besides, a Bentley and a bookshop were waiting for them.

One cool evening as they enjoyed tea on the terrace, Aziraphale proposed, “Let’s return to London, shall we?”

Crowley shivered. “It’ll be winter.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” the angel promised wryly.

“You’re seriously beginning to worry me. Since when have you become an expert in temptation?”

* * *

 

 

[1] Unless one is trying to buy a book at the bookshop of a certain Principality.

[2] Of which, Aziraphale was certain, Crowley had not known the owner five minutes before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photo attribution: Mike Baird (Own work) [CC by 2.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/)] via Flickr  
> (And thanks to Luna who found this beautiful picture!)


	7. Epilogue

_Tadfield, exactly one year after Crowley and Aziraphale’s last visit._

 

“Adam, there’s some mail for you!”

“Thanks, Dad!”

 He tore open the exquisite cream-colored envelope and began to read the beautifully-written script of the letter. A smile gradually came to his lips. He had just finished reading when a chime told him he had a text message. The text contained essentially the same message as the letter, but in significantly fewer words[1]:

 _Thank you. C_.

 

Adam’s smile widened and he folded his hands behind his head, quite proud of himself.

* * *

 

 

[1] But Go… Sa… _Someone_ knows what it had cost its author.

 


End file.
